I want to ask, is it okay that I came in your ass, but that doesn’t feel right, so I just hug her and tell her she’s beautiful. She tucks her head against her chest and denies it, as though disbelief could protect her from the fact. My legs are half set gelatin, I don’t trust them to hold me up, so I lean against the railing hoping it doesn’t show. ‘I’ve wanted this for the longest time,’ she says. I can’t imagine why. My phone vibrates inside my pocket. Where are you? It asks my thigh. Where? Where?
Nic
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.
Say Something